


Hold On With All Of My Might

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7179152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It couldn’t just be a rumour. Could it? </p><p>(Sequel to Just Promise Me We'll Be Alright)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On With All Of My Might

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Just Promise Me We’ll Be Alright](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/post/145036901692/just-promise-me-well-be-alright-fic). The classic reunion fic. After _Promise_ , Dick and Jon became pretty close, and bonded with each other over Damian. That’ll remain even now, and they’re gonna be like the Three Damn Musketeers. (Actual thing villains probably call them.) Jon later probably goes with Damian and meets Goliath and Maya and they all adventure and become a family, and slowly turn into the Teen Titans we deserve. Same supplemental listening: ‘Ghosts That We Knew’ by Mumford&Sons. 

He was standing with Tiger. In the gardens at St. Hadrian’s. They were talking about the last mission. About the students training with Helena nearby.

And it was like magic.

He blinked. He _barely_ blinked. But one second it was him and Tiger. The next, Tiger was thrown feet away, and in his place stood a little boy. A little boy with ripped jeans and a hoody with a symbol far too big for those tiny shoulders to carry.

Jon’s eyes were wide, and he looked panicked. Or…or was he excited?

“Is it true?” Jon asked, completely oblivious to Tiger floundering on the ground nearby, trying to pull his gun from its holster. “Dick, is it true?”

“Is what-” he paused to pull Jon towards him, send a ‘ _really?!’_ glare at Tiger, as he got the gun loose and pointed. Tiger hesitated just a second more, before lowering the weapon. Dick shook his head, and crouched in front of Jon. “Is what true?”

“Damian.” Jon whispered, like if he said the name too loud, whatever he believed to have happened would undo itself. “Damian’s back?”

Dick blinked. Swallowed slowly. “…What?”

Because he knew it might be happening. Knew Bruce had some sort of plan, knew his brothers and Barbara were in on it.

(Just as he knew Bruce wouldn’t let him _help_. Was keeping him an arm’s length from everything, from something – _someone_ – he knew – _knows_ – meant more to Dick than anything in the world.)

But Bruce had been radio silent. And Dick didn’t know what that meant.

“I…Dad said it.” Jon mumbled. “Said he heard from one of the other Justice Leaguers. Or maybe Batman himself, I don’t know, but I heard him talking to Mom about Damian. About Robin being _alive_.”

“Did he actually say Damian or did he just say _Robin_?” Dick asked, pushing down that feeling of hope in his chest. “Jon, have you been to Gotham yet?”

Jon pursed his lips, looking unimpressed as he glanced over at Tiger. “I…no.”

“No?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair if it’s true and I got to see him and you didn’t!” Jon practically shouted, but nervously. “And…and if it wasn’t, I. I don’t know if I would be able to. _Control_ myself.”

Meaning if Damian _wasn’t_ alive, there likely wouldn’t be a city for Batman to protect anymore. Or a Batman to protect that city anymore. Or neither.

“Okay. Okay.” Dick hummed, trying to smile as he took hold of Jon’s shoulders. “How about you and me head inside. We’ll call your dad, or…or we’ll just call Batman, and we can ask-”

“Why don’t you just _go_ to Gotham?” Tiger interjected sourly. When Dick looked over, he saw his partner bitterly reholstering his gun. “That’s why he’s _here_ , Grayson. Or was that really not obvious enough?”

Dick blinked, and glanced back at Jon, who was now looking at the ground to his side. “Jon, did you want…?”

Tiger scoffed as he slowly got to his feet. “And Helena said you were _good_ with children.” He looked at Jon. “I apologize that you have to deal with this idiot.” Back to Dick. “I’ll make an excuse. You have a day.”

“…Tiger…”

“Despite what you think, I do know a little bit about you.” Tiger sighed, looking back towards the Helena and the girls. “I…know how much that child meant to you. And despite what _I_ feel towards you, I know you deserve to see him. Deserve to confirm the rumour this boy here brings you.”

Dick blinked dumbly, then smiled and stood, hand still on Jon’s shoulder.

“Tiger, thank y-”

“You have one day.” Tiger snapped, heading back towards the school. “Don’t waste it.”

Dick nodded to him, despite him facing away, and turned back to Jon. But before Dick could say anything, Jon was reaching up, grabbing at Dick’s arms and leaping towards the skies.

And just like before. One second he was firmly on the ground, the next he was in the air, passing through clouds, St. Hadrian’s far too far below him.

“Jon…” He gasped, glancing up at the boy clinging to his elbows, flying like his life _depended_ on it. “…Jon!”

Jon glanced down, an excited grin on his face. “Oh!” He gasped, and suddenly jerked Dick upwards, settling him across his arms. “Sorry. Dad always says I’m not supposed to carry people like that.”

“It’s…heh, it’s fine.” Dick tried, clinging to the little boy’s neck. “I just thought, you know, maybe we should have talked real quick before taking off.”

“Oh…” Jon looked away. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just. I…”

“I know.” Dick smiled, ruffled Jon’s hair. “I’m excited too, it’s okay.” Jon looked nervously up at him, and Dick laughed again. “Fly on, Superboy. If you know where we’re going.”

“Oh I do.” Jon murmured confidently, and Dick felt them speed up. “I most definitely do.”

The flight wasn’t long. Less than an hour, though more than twenty minutes. He knew when they reached Gotham airspace. There wasn’t a smell or even a scene, but. You never forget your home.

The only time Jon stopped was above Wayne Tower. He slowly tilted his head to the side, like he was listening for something, and then took off again, towards the outskirts of town. Towards Wayne Manor.

He could see the sprawling house easily enough. A dark spot on an otherwise sunny day. Like the light at the end of the tunnel, but more intimidating. More terrifying.

Because what he wanted most might be there – but he had to prepare for the worst. Had to prepare for another Jason, or maybe darker. Because Damian wouldn’t be the same, no matter what. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to believe otherwise.

But also – Damian might _not_ be there. This might be nothing more than a rumour. Nothing more than the biggest, saddest wish of their little family. Of Damian’s closest friends. Of the little boy currently carrying him across the sky.

And it almost seemed like Jon could read his mind.

“What do we do?” He whispered, almost lost in the wind, even with how close they were. “If he’s not there? If…if I’m wrong?” He looked up at Dick, eyes already shining with worried tears. “Dick, what if I’m wrong?”

Dick swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, and gave Jon as bright a smile as he could. “Then we’ll deal with it together like we have thus far.” He promised. “But we won’t know until we land.”

Jon paused and looked down, towards the ever-approaching house, then slowly nodded and did just that.

Descending onto the sprawling driveway of the house almost felt like it took longer than the flight from England, but eventually, he felt Jon hit pavement, and suddenly he was being lowered onto the ground himself.

He immediately wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders, looking up at the massive house. But before they could move towards it, they heard a bark in the backyard. Then another, then another. Then a laugh, deep and low. Bruce obviously.

But then another. _Another_ laugh, but not _Bruce’s_. It was higher, younger. Louder, longer.

He felt Jon tense under his fingertips. Suck in a breath he held.

 _It doesn’t mean anything_ , Dick thought to himself, squeezing Jon’s shoulder and pulling him forward. _It doesn’t mean anything until we see it._

Jon ducked nervously into Dick’s side, and Dick held him as protectively as he could, as they moved around the side of the house.

The voices got louder, as did the barking. He could feel Jon’s pulse thrumming against the fingers he had pressed to the curve of his neck. He was so scared. So nervous.

Dick was right there with him.

When they reached the corner, he leaned forward, to peek around the house, careful to keep anything out of view from Jon, just in case. But his worries were for naught, as far as he could see. Because all he saw was Alfred standing on the porch, watching warmly as a father played with his son and their dog in the yard.

And that’s exactly what it was, no ifs, ands or buts about it. That was Bruce catching the ball his son tossed. And that was Damian catching it when it was thrown back.

…That was Damian.

Alive and breathing. Nose round, smile bright and cheeks rosy. Rosy with blood pumping underneath them, a heartbeat pushing that blood along. Like their nightmare never happened. Like he’d never been gone a day.

That was Damian.

Dick felt tears well in his eyes, because oh _god, that was Damian_.

If he was going to react any further, he didn’t get the chance, as suddenly that over-huge, over-intelligent dog looked over and saw him. Recognized him, and barked. Loudly, happily as he came bumbling over.

Dick smiled, but didn’t let his eyes leave that little boy. The one across the yard, who was still laughing quietly as he glanced over to see what his dog had found. His grin seemed suspended for a second, before it began to fade, just slightly, in surprise.

“What is it?” Jon whispered, pushing at Dick’s side. “Is he…?”

The question trailed off as Jon got his own view, as Titus reached them and jumped at them both. Dick watched as Damian’s eyes darted down towards Jon, and then back up. Went between them a few more times, in his own disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce demanded, before any of them could say a word. Dick looked distractedly over at him, and saw him walking towards them. Bruce’s own eyes dropped to Jon too, and though his demand was gentler, it was still a little overly harsh. “Where’s your father?”

“Bruce…” Dick started dumbly, stepping forward slightly to shield Jon, even as the little boy ducked around to his other side, still staring across the yard.

“Does he know you’re here?” Bruce continued towards Jon. “What about Lois? Does your mother-”

“Damian?” Jon whispered, but it practically echoed across the lawn. Dick looked back towards Damian, and saw his eyes were wide, now, and solely on his young friend. Jon swallowed the lump in his throat, and bravely stepped forward, letting a small grin wash across his face. “Damian…?”

He took a few more tentative steps forward, sidestepped Bruce’s reaching hand. Damian didn’t move. Just stared. Blinked a few times.

“Kent…?”

And that was enough. That seemed to be enough. Jon let that grin explode across his cheeks as he took one more step forward, clearly about to break into a run.

_“Damian!”_

But to the surprise of all, it wasn’t Jon who raced forward to tackle his newly resurrected friend. But rather, it was Damian who was suddenly moving. Suddenly…suddenly _flying_.

Feet off the ground, hovering above the grass, _faster than a speeding bullet_ type of…flying.

Jon jerked to a halt, like he was stuck in mud. But it wasn’t long before he was scooped up. Dragged into both the air and an embrace.

Damian hooked his chin over Jon’s shoulder, gently holding his friend’s dumbfounded weight, just like he was Superman himself.

His voice was warm. Amused. Relieved, when he said, “Got you.”

“He can…” Dick mumbled, slowly, forcibly, looking away from the sight to look at Bruce, who was watching the same. “Bruce, he can…”

 _“You can fly?!”_ Jon suddenly screeched, grabbing Damian’s shoulders and jerking him back. Damian just stared at him, grinning that amazing Damian Wayne grin. Jon cackled, practically bounced in the sky, and gripped Damian’s elbows. “You’re alive, and you can _fly!_ ”

And suddenly they were off. Two little boys racing through the clouds, laughing and shouting, living out the dreams of every child in existence.  

Dick watched them for a moment, smiling himself. He noticed Jon wouldn’t let go of Damian’s wrist, and good for him. He shouldn’t have to let Damian go. None of them should have to let Damian go. Ever again.

It was after the two almost crashed into one of the treetops, but saved themselves at the last second, that Dick looked back at Bruce.

“Powers?” He whispered. Bruce sighed and looked down, then glanced up at Dick and nodded. “Bruce, what the hell happened?”

“A chaos shard. From Apokolips.” Bruce grunted. “…I don’t think the powers are permanent.”

The boys whizzed over their heads, and Titus chased uselessly after them. “…Does Damian know that?”

“No.” Bruce hummed, but suddenly he narrowed his eyes. “Dick, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What, you really expected me to keep playing dead, even after hearing about my little brother?” Dick returned tightly. Bruce just stared, looking almost angry. “Besides, Jon showed up at the school out of nowhere, absolutely _frantic_. My partner told him to bring me to Gotham to investigate the rumour, so that’s what he did.” He paused, twisted to look back at the boys. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“He’s a little boy, you could have overpowered him easily.” Bruce snapped, turning towards the house. “Now come with me. We have a lot to talk about. Not to mention call Clark and-”

“Father.” They both jerked and turned around, to find Jon and Damian back on the ground, both staring intently at them.

Bruce huffed. “Damian, listen to-”

“ _Father_.” Damian pushed threateningly. There was suddenly a tension in the air, and Dick could only glance between father and son.

But it was Bruce who relented, surprisingly quickly. He sighed, long-suffering and fond, rolling his eyes. “…I’ll go call Clark.”

As he stomped up the porch, Alfred – who had to be surprised himself, by Dick’s appearance – nodded approvingly and followed him into the house, leaving the three of them and Titus alone outside.

Dick looked back towards the boys, and found Jon holding Damian’s wrist again. Tightly, comfortingly. Damian’s face was passive, but Dick knew him long enough to be able to see the emotions behind the mask.

He wondered, in that moment, what Bruce had told him. Did he tell him Dick was dead? Gone forever? Did he tell him anything? Or just leave Damian to fill in the pieces by himself, like he tended to do.

But it didn’t matter, he decided, as he moved first. Walking slowly, tentatively towards the two of them. He kept eye contact with Damian the whole time, focused solely on him.

Jon held Damian’s wrist until Dick was within a few feet, then silently let go and stepped back, taking hold of Titus’s collar. Damian didn’t react to the motion, just kept his eyes on Dick, craning his neck back as Dick moved to stand right in front of him.

Another beat of silence, then: “Damian.”

“…Grayson.”

And he couldn’t help but smile. Couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper. “Hello.”

“…Hi.”

Dick looked him over, one more time. His hair was longer, a little curlier at the edges. His skin was smooth, from cheeks to arms to ankles. Smooth and warm and scar-free. His eyes were greener, and that was new. But they were sharp and intelligent and innocent and all Damian. All Damian.

There was no doubt about it.

He felt the tears welling, his throat tightening, but he choked out a laugh anyway, holding his grin. “I missed you, bud.”

There was a hesitation, and Damian blinked like he was surprised by that fact. Like that wasn’t what he expected to hear. And Dick was about to explain himself. About to say it again, or just break down in tears, when suddenly, Damian stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Dick’s torso. Buried his face in Dick’s shirt.

He squeezed, and Dick could feel the echo of his newfound super-strength in the embrace.

Another moment, and then quietly: “…I missed you, too.”

Dick caught Jon’s amused grin right before he practically doubled over Damian, holding him tighter than the younger was holding him. He pressed their faces together, smashed a kiss to Damian’s temple, wiped his unshed tears along the shoulder of Damian’s shirt.

“I missed you so much.” He reiterated hoarsely into Damian’s hair. “And I know. I know it was my fault. I know – you were taken from us because you were protecting me. I know that, and I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry, Damian-”

“Shut up.” Damian snapped weakly against Dick’s neck. “Just shut up, you idiot.”

Jon snorted, and giggled excitedly. Dick glanced up at him, and dared to release one arm out to the other boy. He didn’t hesitated for a second, barreling into Dick’s side, opposite of Damian. And where Damian clung to Dick, Jon clung to them both, creating an impromptu group hug.

“He’s here.” Jon murmured giddily, glancing up at Dick as much as he could. “Dick, he’s _here_.”

“He is.” Dick assured, pressing an identical kiss to Jon’s head as well. “And now it’s our job to make sure he _stays_ here, too.”

Damian scoffed. “With these powers, I’m stronger than both of you combined, so.” A pause as Jon shifted closer, and ruffled his hair. “A useless gesture.”

Dick hummed a laugh, leaning his cheek on Damian’s head. “Thanks for coming back, kiddo.” He hummed. “I don’t think we could have made it without you.”

“…Thank you, as well.” Damian barely breathed, and both Dick and Jon watched the embarrassed flush rose up his cheeks. “I was…not handling your loss incredibly well myself.”

And Dick could only smile more, and pull both the kids closer. “I love you, Damian.” He admitted. “I love you so much.”

This time, there was no pause. “And I, you.” Damian whispered. Suddenly he twisted, looking over at Jon. “ _Both_ of you, I suppose.”

“Both.” Jon snorted, curling closer towards Damian. “You better believe it’s both, you nerd.” And he laughed, as Damian pursed his lips, and elbowed at him lightly. But as they both settled against Dick once more, Jon sighed. “…Welcome back, Damian.”

And Damian grinned, as he tightened his grip around Dick’s chest. “I’m glad to be so, Kent.”


End file.
